A Special Birthday Surprise
by xlightfromabovex
Summary: It's Angeal's birthday, but he's stuck doing administrative work - could Lazard have a surprise for him? AngealxLazard oneshot ;D


Angeal Hewley looked up at the clock and back down at the pile of paper on his desk, and sighed. Still half an hour left until he could properly finish and give up on this report, file it away with a gratifying thud in the filing cabinet and banish it from his mind until the next office-bound day.

Recently, there seemed to have been no opportunity for combat assignments from ShinRa – no, it was just more and more damn typing, writing - secretary work! He wanted to protest that he was not a lackey for office work, he was a SOLDIER First-Class, and deserved to be treated as such; yet his pride and the injured looks Lazard gave him when he tried to bring it up in conversation stopped him.

He didn't see Sephiroth and Genesis doing all this work – but then again, those two had always been a law unto themselves, and at the mention of typing or administrative work Sephiroth had pulled rank and refused point-blank to obey orders, and Genesis had simply melted away back to his apartment, or the theatre in LOVELESS Avenue, or some obscure bookshop in Sector 2; he had many haunts that he frequented, and knowing him, he would not reappear until there was no chance of being roped in to help Angeal.

Well, that was just fine; the black-haired SOLDIER knew that he would be the one with a clear conscience, having kept his SOLDIER pride and discipline; he wasn't the one who would have to do more assignments or missions instead of paperwork, or help the Science Department in their seemingly endless physical tests.

Though, thinking about it, Sephiroth would probably enjoy that; he basked in the admiration his superhuman physical skills gained him from the white-coated lab rats whenever he deigned to visit the training room under supervision. Angeal sighed.

Fine, whichever way he looked at it, he was the one stuck doing their work because he hadn't had the initiative to refuse.

And it was his birthday as well.

As he resigned himself to his fate and bent his head back to the page, a Second-Class knocked on the door and entered at his behest.

"Yes?" Angeal asked a little irritably, still frustrated at the seemingly crawling passage of time. The clock ticked happily at him as the Second-Class halted before his desk, arms behind his back and feet together with a perfect stance.

"Director Lazard requests your presence in his office, sir," the SOLDIER reported, shadowed eyes staring at the wall above Angeal's head. Inwardly, the First-Class shivered; he always found those helmets a little unsettling, but he shook off the feeling and nodded.

"Thank you," he said, and as the SOLDIER saluted and left the room he swept all the sheets on his desk into a folder and dropped it perfunctorily into a drawer, sliding it shut with a satisfying thud that rang with finality. Stretching his arms above his head to loosen them after a day of sitting at the desk, he yawned a little and shook himself. If Lazard had "requested his presence", perhaps the day was lightening a little after all.

A small knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he thought of his slim blonde lover; it was a Friday, after all – maybe the Director had dismissed the usual infantrymen who guarded his office early for the weekend, so he and Angeal could have some time together – alone…

The promise of that hastened his actions and he strode out of the office swiftly, hearing the door hiss shut behind him as he made his way to the lifts, the sword on his back a comforting weight upon his shoulders.

As he waited for a lift to arrive, shifting his weight from foot to foot, he imagined what Lazard could have called him for. A slow smile crept over his face as his mind worked, and he only noticed that the lift had arrived when the tinkling music seeped into his brain. With a startled blink and a shifty look to see if anyone had noticed his daydream – there was no one around – he stepped into the box and almost without looking pressed the button to take him to Lazard.

When the lift finally slid its doors open once more, there was no one waiting in the short corridor leading to Lazard's office where there was usually an infantryman or two – that was a good sign, Angeal thought. Moving out of the lift almost soundlessly, he began to pace towards the inviting golden glow from the lights at the other end of the passage.

"Zard?" he called, taking his Buster Sword and leaning it against the wall. There was no reply, so he continued on, turned the corner, and stopped dead, mouth dropping unconsciously open.

On the nearest point of the curved desk at the back of the room sat Lazard, one leg loosely crossed over the other. He was angled half away from Angeal as he entered, but looked over one shoulder at him as he halted in the anteroom. There were many chains and necklaces draped around his throat; silver, black iron and white gold; ornamental crosses, skulls and spikes dangled from them, jingling softly as he moved. Black bows were tied in his shining blonde hair, matching the red ones on the short black skirt made up of many layers of lace and silk that radiated over the desk from his slim hips.

More chains and studded belts were looped around his waist. Long black gloves laced with black ribbons and tied halfway up his upper arms encircled his hands, his long fingers tipped with black-painted nails bare. The sleeveless top he wore was striped red and black diagonally, hidden for the most part underneath the necklaces and belts.

Angeal took all this in in one long glance, eyes widening. There was a long pause as he regained his composure, and blinked slowly.

"You wanted me, Zard?" he asked as his senses returned slowly. Lazard smiled wolfishly and leaned forwards, looking intently over his half-rimmed spectacles at Angeal.

"Oh, I always want you, Angel," he smiled, slowly shifting off the desk, knee-high black leather boots clunking slightly against the floor. "Happy birthday…"

Angeal stood very still and waited for Lazard to reach him, muscles tensed so hard his arms trembled a little. Only his eyes, pupils dilated and fixed intensely on Lazard as he lazily circled the First-Class SOLDIER, betrayed the anticipation that burned in his chest.

It took all of his iron-regimented self-control not to react when Lazard reached up from behind him and looped his arms around Angeal's neck, placing his lips close to the others' ear to whisper;

"Why so tense?"

Angeal smiled slowly and relaxed his muscles one by one, drawing out the exquisite tension between them as Lazard gently nipped the lobe of his ear, nimble hands unfastening his shoulder armour and tossing it to the sofa with two soft thuds.

Angeal slowly turned in Lazard's arms so they were facing each other, faces close, and lifted his necklaces in one hand, letting the chains jingle through his fingers.

"Where did you get all this stuff?" he asked in a low voice, still smiling teasingly. "Genesis lent it to you?"

Lazard laughed, lowering his head to Angeal's chest momentarily. "You mean he has something like this? How interesting!" He lifted his head again and winked. "And as to where I got this from, I have my sources." He smiled wickedly and touched his lips to Angeal's mischievously. "You want to see all of it?"

Angeal returned his advances enthusiastically, until Lazard twisted out of his embrace and stood back, shaking his head but with a sly grin on his face.

"Ah, you're going too fast, my angel," he admonished, one hand on his hip. "We want to slow it down a little, no…?"

Angeal laughed and lunged playfully towards him, catching his arms and pinning them to his sides as he kissed the blonde man hard, but not roughly. Lazard pretended to struggle and then gave up, submitting to Angeal eagerly as they backed towards the sofa.

Perfunctorily shoving his discarded shoulder armour to the floor, Angeal pushed Lazard down and pinned him to the cushions without breaking contact with his mouth. Pausing for breath, the First-Class grinned.

"It is _my_ birthday, after all," he breathed, eyes glowing predatorily. "I can therefore do what I want…"

Lazard smirked back and wriggled a little underneath him. "Well, that's true," he murmured, subtly moving his hands down from the small of Angeal's back. "So what do you want to do to me?"

"Isn't it more a question of what I want you to do to me…?" Angeal replied playfully, slowly removing Lazard's belts one by one and tossing them aside. The blonde ran his tongue slowly over his lips and gave a smouldering smile.

"So what do you want, Mr. Hewley?" he asked innocently as Angeal finished his work with the belts and returned his attention to Lazard's face.

Without answering immediately, he ran his tongue along Lazard's jawline and to his mouth, eyes never leaving the blonde's half-closed eyes.

"I want…" he murmured on Lazard's lips, "… you to make this the best birthday ever."

Lazard grinned and returned the kiss with gusto. "We'll see if that can be arranged, sir…"


End file.
